Page 8 of Bella Rosa
She rolls her eyes and gestures wildly with her hands. "I had bear spray. I was completely safe. I almost ran out of food though. You don’t realize how hungry you get on a trip like that." We keep talking for the next few hours. She gets up every so often to tend to customers. I tell her all about Foodie magazine and about my encounter at the train station with the mystery man.
She makes a disbelieving noise and pats me on the arm in solidarity. "He sounds like a dick. Hopefully you’ll never have to see him again."
"His friend was nice." I shake my head and try to shift my concentration to the pattern on the table. I need something else to focus on so I don't show how much he bothers me. I have no idea why. It's not like I actually know the man. "It doesn’t matter though. I'll never see him again."
She nods her head in agreement while I stand from my chair and dust the crumbs from my lap. It’s already after lunch time. I didn’t realize how long we had been chatting. "I’ve got to get going. Thank you so much for all your help, the wonderful food, and for the company. I really had a lot of fun. Will you be at your mom's for dinner any night this week?"
She pulls out her phone while she stands. "Looks like I’ll have a free evening on Thursday. I’ll come over then and we can catch up and see if you need any more recommendations!"
As I walk out the door I send a wave over my shoulder. "Sounds perfect!"
As soon as I get back to my room I dig my laptop out of my bag and start to look up the restaurants on my new list. Pretty soon I realize over half of them aren’t within walking distance and it looks like there aren’t any train stations near them either. Maybe I could take the bus, or a taxi. I didn't realize this city wasn't really built for walking.
Sounds like a later problem to me, because I’m going to the one Julianna marked with two stars tonight. It’s within walking distance, and the menu I managed to find online looks amazing. They don’t have a website though. I couldn’t even find a phone number. Dated much?
Now I just need to find an outfit for dinner tonight. Sounds like the perfect time to wear my favorite dress since this is one of Julianna’s favorite places in the city. You can’t go wrong with a little black dress. Especially when going somewhere named Moretti’s.
6
Enjoy Life While You Can
Matteo
Afullhouse.Justthe way I like it. I make my way through the crowded restaurant to the kitchen. I tip my head at my manager. "How are we doing tonight? Any issues I should know about?"
He runs his fingers through his hair and lets out a deep breath. "We're still having some issues with the deliveries. We can talk about it later when we aren't as busy. I'm getting my ass kicked tonight."
I nod my head and make my way to the back of the busy kitchen and through the door that leads to my closet of an office. I know I can count on my staff to tell me the truth. I hired the best of the best for that reason. I sit down at my small dark wooden desk and drag a hand through my hair and down my face. It’s been a long night, and it’s not even halfway over.
Nothing has gone wrong exactly. I’m just worked up about the talk I’m about to have with my father about my plans for the next restaurant. I want to run it differently than this one. More modern. More innovative.
I hear my father’s distinct footsteps and the creak of his office door opening and closing next door. I adjust my tie as I stand. It’s game time. I take a deep breath as I push open my door and walk the few feet over to his office. I stare at the plaque on the door that reads Lorenzo Moretti for a moment before I knock. The delay in his answer seems like an eternity.
"Come in." I hear through the solid wood door that I’ve walked through more times than I can count. This time seems different though.
I open the door to the office my father has had for the last ten years. The only thing that has changed are the pictures in the frames on the walls. His office is bigger than mine, but feels smaller because it's so cluttered. Picture frames filled with memories of the two of us and piles of papers line the walls and his desk. He says he works best this way. Who am I to judge, even though it would drive me insane. The clutter makes my left eye twitch every time I come in here.
"Come in. Come in. I just got off the phone with our financial advisor, James. He is very pleased with the growth of the last quarter."
"I’m sure Josh was very pleased. That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about." I put emphasis on the man's real name hoping my father will finally learn it after all these years. He is horrible with names. Never forgets a face though. My father sits back in his chair and motions for me to take a seat in the only other chair in the room. His desk is facing a wall because the space is so small. He swivels around so he is fully facing me. "I would like to have a conversation about opening another location, if you have time to listen to some of my ideas right now."
He doesn’t look thrilled but he nods.
I clear my throat and begin the speech I practiced in the shower this morning. "Profits would be higher if we opened another location that was more modernized and appealed to a younger crowd. We could maintain a similar feel, but modernize it a bit so the younger crowd wants to come visit. We need to build an online presence and show the tourists that they can eat at a local restaurant and not just the faster-paced tourist traps. I have a few ideas on new menu items and possible locations. We’ve saved up enough money to make it happen. We’re missing out on so many customers because we don’t appeal to the tourists and younger crowd." When I finish, I sit back in my chair and I wait for his response.
I knew I needed to lead into this slowly. My father needs time to adjust to new ideas if there is any hope in him accepting them. That's why I've been dropping hints for the past few months as a lead up to this formal conversation. Hopefully that decision doesn’t backfire.
He takes his glasses off and rubs his eyes. "I don’t know why you are so hung up on this idea. We don’t need to expand. We are doing just fine here. It's not just about profits, son." He places his glasses back on and looks at me. "I just don’t want to risk losing what we have here, Matteo. We have such a good thing going, so I don’t want to rock the boat and risk messing it up. I wish you would take some time off every now and then. Enjoy life while you can instead of working yourself to death like you've been doing the past few years."
"You don’t have to do anything. Let me do it. I want to do it," I reply. I want to do it for you. To show you mom didn’t ruin everything when she left. She didn’t ruin us or the future we could have. Even though she did sell our house, and the car. She could have ruined everything because she sold it all. Just so she could buy a few more pills. But she didn't. I won’t let her. I don’t voice all these thoughts because he doesn’t need to hear them, but they’re there and the driving force behind why I want to do this so badly.
He looks at me for a moment. "I’ll think about it." That’s all I can ask for. We both stand at the same time. He pulls me in for a hug like I’m still a small child even though I’ve got four inches on him. "I’m so proud of you, son. I hope you’ll always know that."
I clear my throat and pat him on the back. "Thanks, dad."
We both pull away and I make my way toward the door. I close it quietly behind me and make my way to the bar. I need to check in with our bartender to see what needs to be ordered this week. I call it a bar, but it’s not a typical bar. More like a walk up counter with a few drink options and a place for people to pick up takeout orders since it’s pretty close to the reception desk.
Before I can even reach the bar I hear a very loud customer complaining about something at the reception desk. What now? I don’t have time for this shit tonight. I’m already behind on all my work because I was preparing for the meeting with my dad.
